2025-07-05 03:52:38The air was cold.
Dust floated in the still room, lit only by the flickering light above. The smell of burnt wires and rust hung heavy, choking the silence. On the cracked floor, a young man slowly stirred.
His name was Jonah.
Jonah groaned and turned his head. Everything ached. His fingers twitched. His arms were heavy. But most of all, he was confused.
He opened his eyes slowly. The ceiling spun. Why am I still alive?
He remembered stepping on those wires. He remembered the jolt, sharp, blinding pain. Then, nothing. Blackness.
He shouldn’t be breathing. He shouldn't be alive.
But he was. The wires had carried thousands of volts. No one should survive that. Yet here he was. Sitting up. Breathing. Alive.
His heart raced as he looked down at his hands. They were trembling, but not burnt. No blood. No sign of injury. His chest rose and fell with each breath, shaky but strong.
Something wasn’t right. He stood up, slowly, and winced. Then he paused.
Why does my body feel so light?
It wasn’t normal. He felt quicker, stronger, but it was also scary. Like something had changed deep inside him, something he couldn’t explain.
And then he remembered something else, the voice.
Before he lost consciousness, just before everything went black, he had heard a voice. A woman’s voice. Calm and strange. She had said something about… a system?
Jonah looked around the room. “Hello?” he called, his voice hoarse. “Is anyone there?”
Silence.
He walked slowly, his boots crunching broken glass on the ground. His eyes scanned every corner. There was no one. Just the dim light, the cracked walls, and the heavy air.
“Who was that voice?” he whispered. “Where did she go?”
There was no answer.
His axe lay on the floor near the wall. He picked it up, gripping the handle tightly. It gave him comfort, even if it felt small in his hands now. Too small.
He pushed open the metal door and stepped into the hallway. The air outside was colder. The halls were dark and empty, but he could hear something, a soft groan, a scratch, maybe even a breath.
He wasn’t alone.
Jonah crouched low and crept forward, his eyes sharp. Something was wrong. Too quiet.
Then he stopped. His breath caught.
Five zombies were standing at the end of the hallway.
They weren’t moving. Not yet. Their eyes were pale and lifeless. Their skin hung like wet rags. They looked like statues, frozen in place.
Why haven’t they noticed me?
Jonah held his breath and took a step back.
Suddenly, clang!
His axe slipped and hit the floor with a sharp, loud clang. It echoed through the hall.
The zombies twitched. Then they turned.
All five heads snapped toward him.
“No…” Jonah whispered.
The zombies snarled and charged.
He dove for the axe and grabbed it. Just then, a wave of power surged through his body. His muscles tensed, his blood rushed. This wasn’t adrenaline. It was something else. Something stronger.
One of the zombies reached for his throat, but Jonah moved faster.
CRACK!
He brought the axe down hard and split the zombie’s skull clean in two. Blood sprayed. The body dropped.
He turned and swung again. Another one down. And again. And again.
He didn’t stop. His body moved like it knew what to do.
Within seconds, the hallway was silent again. The five zombies lay in a bloody heap.
Jonah stood over them, breathing hard. But he didn’t feel tired. Not at all.
“What… what just happened?” he asked himself. His hands were still holding the axe, but it wasn’t shaking. It felt natural. Like an extension of his arm.
Was it the axe? he wondered.
He stared at it. But it looked ordinary. Worn. Bloodstained. Not magical.
Then, he heard the voice again.
“System Host: Level Up. Strength increased.”
Jonah froze.
It wasn’t a woman this time. It was a clear voice in his head. Calm. Robotic.
“Who said that?” he shouted, looking around. “Who are you? Show yourself!”
“I am the voice of the System you now control.”
Jonah’s breath caught.
There was something inside him. Something alive. It was speaking to him.
“What are you talking about? What system? What did you do to me?” His heart was racing now. “Am I going crazy?”
“You are not crazy. You are the host of the Slayer System. You awakened it through the Catalyst, your refusal to die.”
Jonah staggered back.
The wires. His near-death. His will to survive. That was the Catalyst?
“Wait… Does this mean I have powers?” he asked, his voice shaky. “Am I… different now?”
“You are beyond human limits. Each zombie you slay increases your level. With each level comes greater strength, speed, and skill.”
He couldn’t believe it. But deep down, he knew it was true. He had changed.
“How many did I kill just now?” he asked quietly.
“Five. You are now Level 6. Title: Amateur Zombie Slayer.”
“Level 6…” Jonah looked down at his hands. They looked the same, but they weren’t. He felt the difference.
He clenched his fists and smiled faintly. “So… if I keep fighting, I keep getting stronger?”
“Correct.”
He nodded slowly. “Then maybe… maybe I can survive this.”
But then, a scream shattered his thoughts.
“Help us! Please! Anyone!”
It was a woman’s voice. Muffled. Panicked. From somewhere nearby.
Jonah turned toward the sound. “There are still people in this building,” he whispered.
His eyes narrowed. He gripped his axe tightly. “I need to help them.”
He started running down the dark hall, ready for whatever came next.
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